


Épié

by AndiiErestor



Series: Oracle of Imladris [27]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: B2MEM2020, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23330110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiiErestor/pseuds/AndiiErestor
Summary: Glorfindel arrives in Rivendell as a shadow watches his steps.
Series: Oracle of Imladris [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1198450
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Back to Middle-earth Month 2020: Endings and Beginnings





	Épié

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dalandel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalandel/gifts).



> Day 16 Prompt: ‘Mithrandir! Mithrandir!’ men cried. ‘Now we know that the storm is indeed nigh!’  
> ‘It is upon you,’ said Gandalf. ‘I have ridden on its wings. Let me pass! I must come to your Lord Denethor, while his stewardship lasts. Whatever betide, you have come to the end of the Gondor that you have known. Let me pass!’ (Return of the King, Book V, Chapter 1)

Glorfindel rode down the path along the side of the mountain with a strange remembrance of having done so before in his last home on these shores. As he understood it, the Last Home House of lord Elrond half-elven still acted as a refuge to their lost kin, and the inhabitants of the valley were at work every day to make it feel more welcoming for them, despite its hidden location clearly meant to keep outsiders where they belong. Glorfindel felt a shiver of fear run up his spine.

Though the memories of his previous life were present in his mind, they were dulled somewhat, through the filter of the Halls. As though he'd been told as a child's bedtime story, he knew _of_ the events that had transpired, but could not yet reach the memory itself - perhaps for the better.

His guide slowed as they reached a wooded area and Glorfindel had the distinct impression that he was being watched. Good, too, as expected really. And yet, he couldn't help thinking that he was not being observed by the guard. Surely they wouldn't make so much noise? Surely they wouldn't slip up and let him catch a glimpse of raven hair and skin the colour of pearls.

Before him, a long bridge and a solitary figure to greet them. Glorfindel remained silent as he tread along the path, allowing his mind to wander to the future. What role might he come to fulfill in such a home in time? Would he be sent to work among the guard? Would he be an advisor? A gardener even? He laughed at the thought, though he wouldn't mind. He'd succeeded at making flowers grow in a city of stone after all. It would be much easier to do so here, and an honour to do so for the son of Ëarendil. Already he could imagine what the vale might look like given some time and all the more love.

A few more trees here, some greenery by the stairs there, maybe even before the bridge. And in the fall...

Though this would be no time to be growing flowers, and such a thing would have to wait, for war was on their doorstep.

There, behind them, coming out from behind the trees to stand at the end of the bridge - watching them - stood the most beautiful, mystifying elf Glorfindel had ever seen. Dark hair blowing in the wind around him like ink in water, he wore a long robe - half open - with skin-tight breeches, toes digging into the earth, lips parted in awe as he stared at them.

Glorfindel stared back, utterly bewitched, until his guide urged him forth, sparing only a wave over his shoulder at the mysterious figure he, too, had noticed. When Glorfindel glanced back again... The elf was gone.


End file.
